Brothers Islands

Diving safari off Egypt's Brothers Islands. Easily one of the most beautiful dives sites in the world. The safari that held so much promise before our September 2004 departure completely exceeded the expectiations of the majority of participants. And in particular mine, so far based only on lake diving in Poland.

After touching ground in Hurghada, we headed straight for Sea Flower, our boat and base for the next 6 days, with 4 decks, 2 pontoons, 8 crewmembers and 20 divers, some of whom had over a thousand dives under their belts.

In the evening we descended on the town in search of food. Boy, did we find it; we had seafood: crayfish, crab, prawn, all very delicious. We showed off our excellent haggling skills (in Egypt you need to haggle to buy anything) by slightly, well, overpaying. Still, such food is hard to find in Poland. After the meal, we went for a short walk. On foot, it was difficult to take in the sights without being accosted by street vendors, pub or restaurant touts. From experience, I'd recommend looking straight ahead, treating the pests as air. It actually worked, but made us feel like stuck-up boors. It was difficult not to react when an Egyptian vendor advertised his product in Polish, trying to lure us with a "f...ing steal". The evening was topped off with a beer and a shisha; then it was back to the boat with us. This time we exercised more cunning and refused to pay rather inexpensive bus fare, and only boarded the third bus, which took us to the boat for local rates.

After a short night, we set off on a voyage to waters populated by sharks. Actually, we didn't see any on our first day, but that was not the plan. We first dived off the reef of Gota Abu Ramada, whose name can be translated to Pappa Ramada's Reef.

After a briefing conducted by our local guide, we put on our wetsuits and diving equipment and jumped into the water. It was immediately obvious that water salinity and temperature was higher than in the Œwiêtajno lake. I could look underwater and see the bottom several meters away! An impossible feat when diving in Poland. We started our descent, embarking on an underwater stroll around the reef. I was astounded by the richness of colors and forms, or even fishes, as so far I only admired perch, pike, crayfish and underwater meadows. And we still hadn't reached the Brothers Islands... To the left, we were passed by pairs of Red Sea bannerfish of yellow and navy blue color. To the right, we noticed an unhurried shoal of yellow fish; elsewhere, black fish whose name remains a mystery to me, were chasing one another. We went further on, swimming between rock pillars encrusted with corrals. I noticed a scorpionfish whose cameleon-like abilities allow it to mask its presence on the reef. Any depressions in the coral were filled by small, several centemeter long fish. There were also big, several dozen centemeter long parrotfish with their tough beak-like mouths, which they used to bite the reef in seach of food. According to our calculations, we didn't have enough air to go around the reef, so we went back. On the way, I continued to take in the amazing sights. The surroundings were colorful, and the effect was much improved by the rays of sunshine making their way through the wavy surface of water. Suddenly, I noticed some movement beneath me; it was a 1.5-meter moray fish. I was too far from my buddy to point out the creature, so I followed its serpentine movements on my own, until it disappeared under an overhanging rock. As it later turned out, I was one of the lucky few who managed to spot it. Finally, we had to struggle against the current, which task brought sweat to my forehead and nape. That just went to show that even in water you can work some sweat. I surfaced at 10 atmospheres, but I wouldn't have been satisfied to finish with a bigger reserve.

After dinner we attacked the wreck of the Salem Express, a ferry that sunk 13 years ago due to overload. The captain wanted to take a short cut to the port, which had gruesome consequences. The catastrophe consumed the lives of more people than were allowed onboard. The wind and waves that accompanied us since the morning, died down a bit, but after dropping the anchor at the wreck we had a briefing at the bow, which was swaying under me... There I suffered from the first symptoms of sea-sickness, growing greener and greener with each passing minute. I gritted my teeth and put on the equipment, cursing the exhaust fumes that didn't help any.

Finally, I jumped into the water, where in the quiet and unswaying environment I swiftly forgot about any stomach problems. We descended in the direction of mid-port side (with the Salem Express on the starboard). I was too excited about my first wreck diving to take in the entire sight of the vessel. Maybe it simply was too big? I continue my descent in the direction of two massive funnels; without even realizing it, I had reached the depth of 30 meters. We paddled on in the direction of the bow, which featured a hole through which the water flooded in, sunking the vessel. In the shadow of the bow, a meter-long grouper was using some R&R. We swam upwards to look at the Salem's anchor; then the current brought us closer to the line of windows just below the deck. We looked inside, taking in the beds, or rather the remaining springs and foams. It took me a moment to realize just what I saw. Suddenly, from the bottom of the wreckage came bubbles of air; they were the evidence that a few daring individuals decided to enter the wreck. I decided to wait a while before such feats. Instead, I half-entered the mess to see its tables nailed to the floor, as if the engineer made a mistake. Some not-far-off cranny of the hull was hiding a lionfish, a small creature which could be a great threat to humans. Any contact with one of her poisonous stings could shorten one's lifespan to only two hours. However, that's nothing when compared to the venom of a certain sea slug, which is several times as powerful as cobra's. Death comes within a dozen seconds, not giving the victim the time to surface... For one last moment we observed the construction of Salem, then swam away in the direction of our boat. I still regret not turning back then to see the whole wreck for the last time. Also, I was made painfully obvious that one dive was not enought to get to know the wreck; two more would have been perfect.

As soon as I left the water, my sea-sickness decided to strike back. I fought it off by taking a mysterious orange tablet and went to bed to catch some shut-eye. Two hours later my sleep was cut short by cries of "night dive!" Like a proper idiot, I forgot to bring my torch. Fortunately, I was saved by our local guide, who gave me his spare. Well, he didn't need it, as he wasn't diving. We stopped for a night dive at Aum Halhala (which translates to Halhala's Mum), a 12-meter shallows in the vicinity of Safaga.

A short briefing, equipment on, then a jump into the water. We turned on our torches and went in. Fishes seemed to be hiding, as less of them were visible, and most tried to escape the torchlight. However, the reef was far from devoid of life. We could still tease puffers, which chose to show us their back fins, ignoring our invitation to chat. Suddenly, my diving partner spotted a meter-long crocodilefish. The name was very apt indeed: if it weren't for the fins, we could have easily mistaken it for a Nile crocodile. And they say that nitrogen narcosis ocurrs only below 24 meters, rather than 10. The fish faintly snapped its jaws, slumbering on the sandy seabed of the same yellowish tinge as its scales. We spent some time chasing the "croc" around, which attracted other divers who took over minding the fish. We left for the boat. On the way we spotted a miniscule, orange-black sea slug.

After the night dive, the captain took the boat towards our destination, the Brothers Islands. The glorious weather convinced quite a lot of people to spend the night on the mid-deck, under the stars, or actually under a canopy used during the day to protect against the scorching sun. However, it didn't protect against the wind, which continued to howl, making me drift in and out of sleep. Before we reached our destination, I had the most horrifying nightmare. I my dream it was Thursday and I was leaving work for home. Slowly it descended on me that I should be on the safari, as I only managed 3 dives. It's impossible, it couldn't have finished so suddenly! I didn't even arrive at the Brothers Islands! Eventually, I woke up from this terrifying dream, distraught at the realistic nightmare I couldn't shake off. Fortunatelly, it was 3 a.m. and the boat was dropping anchor at the Big Brother Island. The island is a massive, 400 meter long and 50 meter wide, slab of rock. The island's lighthouse was working, warning ships passing that way. The night sky was lit-up by the nearly full moon. After making those observations I nodded off and slept until the 6 a.m. wake-up call (what sensible creature gets up at that time during holidays?!). The early hour was arranged with our guide to ensure that we went under before divers from other boats anchored there. As it later turned out, our guide wasn't the only one with a cunning plan.

After a briefing, we put on the equipment and jumped into the pontoons. Like commandos, we braved the 1.5-meter waves. We reached the drop zone located to the north of the island, then, with jackets pumped out, we rolled backwards and speedily submerged. If we had stayed above the surface for a moment longer, the powerful waves could have crushed us against the rocky shore, and we didn't come to Egypt seeking our deaths. Almost immediately we are faced with the wreck of Numidia, lying at the depth of 8 to 86 meters. The Numidia, a cargo ship, sunk in 1901, when an officer of the night watch dozed off when on-duty, and the current drove the vessel straight onto the reef. There were no fatalities and most of the cargo was recovered. Thanks to that human error, we could admire the wreck, which was totally covered by corals. We descended to the remarkable depth of 40 meters, where the visibility was simply fantastic; we could even see the reef right below the surface, which meant that the visibility amounted to 40-50 meters! Incredible. Speaking from memory, it is now difficult to recall what I saw. There were corals, lots of corals; in total contrast to their sparcity on the Salem, sometimes it was difficult to say where the corals ended and the wreck began. After seeing the wreck, we started our great walkabout in the drift by the east wall of the island. If anyone asked me how much fish I saw, I would immediately answer: a few million. From 2-3 centemeter orange sea basses and other black fishes hiding among the corals, to bigger, several centemeter long, harmless and colorful fishes, or fang-bearing groupers, elongated and stick-thin cornetfish, powerful, several dozen centemeter long tuna fish, or slim and dangerous great barracudas, to tresher shark. A great example of the last species was circling the water beside us, and another - 30-40 meters below us. Both had very long tails, and moved them from left to right. Each creature measured at about 2-2.5 meters. They were the reason why each of us came here... We swam on and checked the air: I had only 50 atmospheres, while my buddy managed to preserve 80. How did he do it? Immediately I realised that he would have to finish diving much sooner than he wished. Later on I showed an improvement in managing my air reserve better and learnt to finish at air levels similar to my buddy. After our inauguratory dive, we came ashore at the Brothers Islands.

After all the exercise, we wolfed down our breakfast, or actually torn it into pieces in the manner of sharks. The meal was followed by an invigorating catnap and soon we no longer remebered the meager 6 hours of sleep.

Then, either before or after dinner, I can't remember, we got into the pontoon and left for our second dive of the day. Usually, we dived in teams of 4 persons. It was also the case that day. Another drop above the Numidia. This time we approached the wreck from a different side; we spot a characteristic train carriage wheel, which used to be a part of the Numidia's cargo (wheel rather than carriage). It was so encrusted that in another 100 years its massive spokes would disappear completely. We decided to return to the boat by the better lit western wall. Smiling rakishly, we swam past another wreck that fell prey to the Big Brother, that of the Aida, which would be the destination of tomorrow's expedition. The return was not as easy as before, as we had to put some effort into swimming against the current. So far I only described the great variety of fish, so the time has come to talk about corals, gorgonias and plants. Picture a vertical, 80-meter high rock overgrown with all manner of bonsai trees, encrusted with sponges and grzybami or other specimen, multiply that image by all the colors you know and make it all move slightly; only then you could imagine what we saw underwater. A part of that fairy-tale landscape was hard as a rock, another was swaying with the current, some elements opened and closed, others vibrated, and all of them provided the haven for magnitudes of small fish. The cliché of a living reef has never seemed more truthful. This great impression wasn't even spoilt by the throngs of people diving alongside you. At one moment I counted 20 persons before me. I preferred not to look behind me. Fortunately, no diver could disturb the sea bottom, which was located deep below us, in a 100-200 meter abyss. We ended our diving session and passed a shoal of extremely confused herring or mackerel that seem to be vibrating around a center of gravity known only to them. Why didn't the barracudas hunt the baffled fish? That would have been a view to remember.

During that dive one of our four lost his computer, probably during the drop from pontoon. At least that was what he said. Unlucky. However, on the last day of our excursion he managed to find when packing, hiding in a box on the deck of our boat. So he found the computer but then managed to lose a watch, probably underwater. Of the two misfortunes, I would have preferred the latter. So would our friend, but Neptune might have preferred the computer to the watch. Otherwise, how would he know when he was in the danger of decompression?
The third and last dive of the day was preceeded by a deliberation on the plan of action. The guide supplied us with 3 scenarios, from which the 20 of us managed to create 60 options, as well as several new scenarios. Finally we came to a agreement.

Our teams of four jumped from the boat and swam towards an anchor line descending into 100-meter abyss. We held on to the rope and waited for sharks, staring into the depths. Apparently, sharks were frequent visitors there. We awaited their appearance with slight apprehension. After 5 minutes, we were partially awarded for our patience: a meter-long napoleonfish with a stern look on its face, swam above us. We let go of the rope and swam by the reef's wall, admiring the coral growth. From the western side, the reef featured many small bays, which we readily examined. We swam above cornetfish, which whirled into simple letters such as X, I, V, N, provided, of course, that you we open-minded enough to see them, as everyone knows that fish are illiterate. From a small grotto we fished out a grouper, that bear its teeth at us. Was he mocking us? The nasty beast must have known that we were down to 20 atmospheres and had to come up for air.
After diving we visited the lighthouse keeper. We managed to arrive there before the sunset. Some of us bought T-shirts with the Brothers Islands logo as souvenirs from the trip. After supper, several divers were itching for a night dip, but the waters around the Brothers Islands were too dangerous due to currents and hunting sharks. That is why we decided to return the favor and hound them a bit. Eventually, the reverse was true, as several humans were hunted by sharks.

We didn't have to wait long. There it was! Behind the stern! We all ran to see; thankfully, the boat did not capsize. To arms, lads, it'a a shark! I believe it was a 2-meter gray reef shark. First, it swam calmly between the ten boats anchored there, from time to time making its appearance by our boat and the neighboring one. But we didn't want to share, we wanted a shark for our own. We tried many things. We splashed the water and lowered torches. Some German guy from the nearest boat decided to go all the way; he took his mask, snorkel and torch, and holding onto the ladder, he went into the water in search of the shark. Suddenly, the shark turned back and started off in the direction of the light. Which the German didn't see. Didn't see then. However, on hearing the screams coming from two boats, we sped up and, afraid and desperate, jumped straight onto the ladder. The shark was right on his heels, but didn't even touch him. Maybe the guy didn't wash his feet since the day before? Regardless, he managed to overcome his fear and once again went under. A cameraman from our boat was already in the boat, trying to make serious buck by passing any potentially drastic material to Reality TV. He was wearing a wetsuit, so he had nothing to fear from the shark. The German guy invited his girlfriend to play; the woman followed his cue and held on to the ladder. Wonder if he would act like a gentleman when the shark attacked... So far, so good. The German knight remained in the water until the last moment, protecting his lady. The shark swam to the ladder, and stopped half a meter away from our hero from the other side of the Odra river. Then the teasing stopped; the shark clearly had enough and didn't return that night.

Second day on the Big Brother started with a 7 a.m. wake-up followed by a briefing. I didn't feel all that well, as I stayed up long to describe our frolicking with the shark. Then, I still believed the encounters were cutting-edge.

But mattering too myself about the importance of being tough, I put on my wetsuit and equipment and jumped into the pontoon. We were once again taken to the northern side of the reef and jumped into the water. This time we dropped on the wreck of the Aida. The vessel was lost in 1957, when, despite stormy sea, it draw up to the jetty with a transport of supplies for the lighthouse staff. During the unloading, the powerful waves thrust the ship against the rocks, crushing its hull. All the crew was evacuated, but the Aida was split in two. The rear part rests horizontally at a depth of 28 to 52 meters; any diver descending so deep cound admire the name Aida located on the stern. The front part settled much deeper, at 100 meters below the sea level. As I observed the improbable angle at which the rear end of the wreck rested, I wondered just how it was supported in place. The hull of the wreck ihad been embedded in the reef, which allowed us to see the whole deck, or actually yhe metal railings that used to support decking boards. Every surface was encrusted with corals; I couldn't see any difference between their quantity on the Numidia and the Aida. Apparently, 100 or 50 years made virtually no difference to corals. Soon after we started our slow return in the direction of the boat. We were swimming with the current and only had to control the direction and move our flippers slightly. As usual, when we reached 1/3 of the island, we swam over a familiar tresher shark, whose sphere of influence (or ingestion) started at 50 meters. We observed the reef, and searched its nooks and crannies for groupers. We were frequenty passed by great barracudas, which looked to me a bit similar to the Polish pike fish, only covered in blue-silver rather than green scales. And obviously 3-4 times bigger. We slowly approached the boat and floated to the surface, only to be forcefully thrust against the stern by the waves; not without trouble we made our way onboard.

After the dive my strength left me completely: I only dibbled in my breakfast, and promptly fell asleep. Before the second dive of the day, I didn't feel any change. I managed to overcome my internal weakness and decided to go for the dive. Just after the briefing, a messanger from another boat came, looking for a medic. As it turned out, when swimming beneath it on a pontoon, someone came into contact with a mooring line. Most unfortunate, especially that his head was hurt: on the neck he had a bloody trail and a split lip. Fortunately, our expediton featured two female doctors, who immediately provided him with first aid. The were obliged to do so by the Hypocritic Oath ("I will provide medical treatment to the best of my abilities and knowledge, for the benefit of the ill people who shall be protected against any damage and harm?"). They sew up the lip with the only surgical tools available, which were far from sanitary, and asked the unlucky guy's companions to take him to a hospital on the continent. That devious maneouver single-handedly decreased the number of divers in the area by 20.

The scenario of our next dive was as follows: drop on the Numidia, diving in threes, then a return from the eastern wall. Nothing went according to the plan.

We were dropped from the pontoon over the Aida, so we had to paddle to the Numidia, all the time fighting against the current. We could finally admire the wreck up close and personal; however, the moment we moved away from the vessel, the strong currents drove us into the big blue. We struggled for several moments, but to no avail. Finally, we were ready to admit it to ourselves. We couldn't do it. Another boring return from the western side awaited us. In the meantime, our three-person file started getting longer and longer. First my usual diving partner fell behind, making pictures like mad, and the other one soon showed me the back of his head. I tried to call him back, but that was impossible. I let him go to continue the dive on his own, and waited for my buddy. As soon as he caught up, we rapidly came to an agreement that the third guy was before us. We followed him, but the current didn't help any. Bone tired from the struggle, we came up at the island's middle point and released the buoy. Soon we were approached by the pontoon, whcih came to collect us. We tried to find out from the skipper if he transported our third guy, but unfortunately our knowledge of Egyptian was rather lacking, and his poor command of Polish or English didn't help, either. We managed to fish out 4 more divers from the general area, all the time looking for our third guy. We did find find, but not before we reached the boat: he was climbing up the ladder before we got onboard. Nice. He swam such a long way against the current in great time! But really, he should have waited for us.

The dive totally wiped me out: I didn't even touch my dinner (imagine, me!), just went to sleep, and slept, and slept some more. I dreamed on as we approached the Small Brother Island; I didn't stir when a bounch of us when for their third dive. I didn't even wake up to the crew's loud cries of "shark, shark!", as somebody's chicken tied to a line lured three sharks. They circled the bait until one of them swallowed it. For supper I forced myself to eat something, just to lay ground for the magic orange pill, which, along with a night of uninterrupted sleep, worked wonders in returning both my appetite and diving zeal. Finally, I had the chance to admire the Small Brother, which appears to be approximately half the Big Brother's size, 200 meter long and 50 meter wide. It was a slab of yellow-brown rock, rising about 10 meters over the sea level, which was flat at the top and wave-jagged at the bottom. The middle of the island was crowned by an Egyptian flag, a sign clearly stating just who this territory belongs to. Our expectations for diving there were raised by the tales of our local guide. Apparently, sharks and turtle were to make up for the lack of wrecks. And surely, they did.

We started off before breakfast with a pontoon drop on the northern side of the island. A backwards roll followed by a moment of disorientation, and finally we could start the descent. At 10 meters we passed the plateau to stop at over 40 meters below. We were a strong group of 10. Suddenly, one of us pointed at the depths and pressed his hand against the forehead: a sure sign that there is a shark present. I looked down but couldn't see a thing. Then, like a bat out of hell, a gray reef shark swam right swam from behind us, passing some 2 meters away. We were left with our mouths hanging open. After that adventure, we returned to the boat at our leisure, this time swimming with the current and admiring the thriving reef. At the end of the wall we went over a real gorgonia jungle, stretching from a depth of 25 to 65 meters. After we came onboard, several persons were teasing us with seeing a turtle.

Our second dive started off so early that we were sure we could manage four in a day. We encountered many beautiful specimens of fauna, starting with another gray reef shark. I spotted it quite late, as the gray color made for good camouflage. It swam some 10 meters below me. I pointed it out to other divers, making strange movements to attract the creature's attention. The shark did not turn back, finally disappearing in the blue sea. We paddled on until we swa a group of divers groping a meter long green turtle, which was busily consuming his greens. Anyone with a camera was trying to make pictures or clips of the animal, which wasn't easy with the throngs of others. Finally, the bored turtle swam towards the surface, probably to catch some air. At the end of the dive, we grasped the anchor line at 5 meters below and waited for sharks. The wise-guys were probably hiding from us at 40-50 meters. Finally, we were approached by a massive, over a meter long but essentially harmless napoleonfish. It must be pretty happy with itself, popping up to our right and left, with the blue-green scales of its sides reflecting the sun. We waited for a moment longer, but failed to spot any sharks and decided to come onboard.

After our last dive off the Brothers Islands, we set off on a voyage to the town of Marsa Alam. On the way we dropped anchor off the Elphen Ston reef (no translation of that, I'm afraid). Six o'clock wake-up, followed by briefing.
My diving buddy and I decided to attack the 50-meter mark. Could we make it? Would I get nitrogen narcosis? We jumped from the boat into the water and went under. We descended easily, drifting with the current onto a gentle slope. When we reached 40 meters, my buddy wanted to know if I was OK to go on. I was; we descended to 50 meters, then immortalized our achievement in photograhy. According to my computer, I had only two minutes before decompression, and my diving partner's device showed only one minute. We started slow ascent, observing on the way up the vertical slope overgrown with corals. We didn't manage to find a manta ray, even though we heard one was spotted guarding its territory. At least, so the rumor goes.

For our second dive we were dropped on the plateau from the pontoon. As soon as we went underwater we spotted a 2-meter reef white tip shark. Soon, it was swarmed by a group of divers from our pontoon. The shark swam just 10 meters away; it was very close, or at least it seemed that way at the time. But I'm getting ahead of myself. From that spot we started our ascent, this time favoring the other side of the reef. On the way we passed some lionfish and one scorpionfish, which was using camouflage to hide among the corals. My buddy was looking for a stone fish, but was unlucky on the day.

After we returned to the boat, we found it circled by several oceanic white tip sharks. A lot of thrillseekers onboard jumped into the water. Some ten divers were surrounded by four sharks. They were the biggest specimens we had seen so far, measuring at 2-3 meters. Then the crew's dinner calles were heard, but few would seriously consider dinner at a moment like that. However, I optimistically decided that the sharks would be there even after the meal. And I was right. After dinner, I put on my flippers, mask and snorkel, and jumped into the water. It was time for my adrenaline dose. That was the reason (or actually, one of many) why I came on that expedition. There it was! One oceanic white tip shark! The creature was 2.5 meter long, with powerful side fins sticking out like stabilizers on a hydrofoil. Behind its malevolent eyes, there were five characteristic gill openings. The shark was followed by some tireless little fish, that appear to have a symbiotic relation with the shark, sharing the remains of its feasts. Some way off, a cameraman from our boat, equipped only in flippers and mask, was observing the proceedings. At the beginning I was also observing the shark from a safe distance of 10 meters. Suddenly, it started moving in my direction. The shark was getting closer and closer, just as I was some 10-15 meters from the boat. I had no chance of boarding it. I was debating getting out of its way. It was certainly an option, but would require some splashing and would result in attracting the creature's attention. I jumped to the side, but the shark then turned in my direction. My heartbeat went into overdrive; I wonder if it could hear it. How could I know when it would attacking me? I remebered that there was some side fin raising involved. That way I would have valuable time to turn my flippers towards the predator to protect myself, if not my equipment. What a great memento of the attack would the remaing part of the flipper make! The shark cut the distance to a meter, then turned around. Phew! It must have already eaten. It swam away, disappearing from my sight. Then I heard shouts from people on the boat and looked, while still in the water, where they were pointing. The shark was behind me. It swam from beneath the boat, initiating a repeat of our dance. Once again, it swam right at me, moving its tail fin to one side, and the massive head to the other. And again, it missed me at the least moment. After the fifth close encounter of that kind I decided to spare the shark the adrenaline jumps as well as the resulting heart condition. I swam to the side and held to the pontoon, ready to leave the water at any time. From that vantage point I could observe the antics of our devoted cameraman. He was playing with the shark, pestering and teasing it. The shark swam so close that his nose tapped against the camera. Then some wiseguy threw chicken into the water, which started to slowly sink into the sea depths. Momentarily, our shark was assisted by another which came out of nowhere. As our friends' friends are our friends, the cameraman enthusiastically splashed around with the two creatures. Soon he was surrounded by the sharks, which appeared to be picking up speed. Finally, the cameraman let himself be persuaded by his girlfriend to come onboard, as the last person to leave the water, much to the chagrin of the sharks.

As soon as everyone finished diving, we watched the film recorded only minutes before. The title was obvious: "Jaws 4". We watched it with bated breath, giggling like kids when the shark winked at the camera which was only a dozen or so centemeters away. The first showing ended to a thunderous applause.
Our next dive at the site lacked such excitement, but we did manage to spot a moray fish swimming from one grotto to another, several clown fish living in pairs in strange sea anemone, or a shark welcoming us on our return to the boat. Then we left for Gota Marsa Alam for a rather unremarkable night dive. We stayed at that crescent-shaped reef for two more dives. There were no signs of what was to come in the near future.

Our morning dive started a bit later than usual. Were were dropped from the pontoon onto the reef. The reef was very interesting due to the untypical form of its base, with the new reef growing on top of the old one. We caught a silly bug, with someone taking off the flippers a doing a moon walk impression, and another (the author?!) replying with a parody of Mikey Jackson's moonwalking, with all the necessary gropes. Any damning photos would have to be destroyed.
Before our second dive, someone spotted dolphins closes to the boat. There were 4-5 of them. And the craziness started. Most got their cameras ready and started taking pictures from the boat. Some put on their flippers, masks and snorkels and jumped into the water to chase the group. However, the dolphins were not intent on escaping, and instead, they slowly circled the area. I followed their example. Finally, I could see the animals underwater and noticed that the group was more numerous than we thought, with nine mature and two young bottlenose dolphins. They were swimming close to one another and the fins of young dolphins (which were no bigger than half a meter), to my disbelief, touched their mothers' fins, almost as if they were holding hands. Time and again divers descended several meters underwater, without equipment, to swim with the dolphins for a few moments. One swam to the left, another other to the right; the dolphins didn't react. Indeed, they seemed positively happy, teasing us and spinning. I tried to exercise my brains and deduct where the dolphins would be headed in a moment, then cut them off at the curb and approach them. An I did it! They were swimming right at me. I took a deep breath and swam right beside them, at just arm's distance. It was an incredible feeling. I was grinning from ear to ear. I had no doubt that every one of us felt exactly the same. We could hear dolphins communicating among one another by way of shrieks and screeches. I couldn't help myself and touched one animal. When I surfaced, I had to face disapproval: "You just had to touch them!" Well, yes, I had. Thankfully, my touch didn't scare away the dolphins. We could continue this amazing adventure for a long time. It was a great and memorable to see a dolphin swimming right by my side. Absolutely fantastic. While diving with sharks was very thrilling, swimming with dolphins was just undescribable. I didn't think I could be that lucky again...

For our last dive we attacked a wreck of a 25-meter vessel. It rested in shallow waters, at the level of 10-12 meters. First we approached it without, and then with equipment. From all the parts strewn about we could speedily construct a bathroom, with a carpet, stool, sink with a lamp and a mirror frame, as well as a shell used as soap holder. We were very pleased with the results and checked if everything was functional. It was. The toilet cistern could have worked faster, but that was to be expected on a boat. We swam in the direction of the reef, a little lost and sad at our last dive.

In the afternoon, we arrived at the Marsa Alam harbor. In the evening our feet finally touched solid ground. And you know what? It was still swaying! At least it seemed so. We strolled around the town (too big a name for something so small) and paid outrageously high prices for T-shirts and other memorabilia. We even dropped in a coffee shop called Luxor; after dark, we returned to the boat. On the next day we caught a transfer to the Hurghada airport and we arrived in Poland before seven p.m.

For me, this safari was a long series of discoveries and "first times": I had my first dive abroad, did some reef and wreck diving, dropped off a boat or a pontoon, dived in a current, descended deeper than ever, dived in a temperature of 26°C, and swam with sharks and dolphins. I can objectively say that on our return, everyone was extremely happy about the expedition. Despite some imperfections and shortcomings, always present to our Polish eyes, the conditions were very favorable. Our group gelled well, and there was no boredom or animosity among us. Not once were our plans spoiled by winds or currents. Underwater, we saw three wrecks, a magnitude of fish and coral species; we also called upon a Mr. Turtle, someone might have seen a manta, we were chased by sharks and, finally, were swimming with dolphins. What more to want from this blue happiness?

 

Gallery:

Text: Maciek Derda
Photos, film: Rudi Stankiewicz
Montage: Błażej Kabziński